


Five Times Klaus Took Care of Diego, And One Time Diego Took Care Of Him

by TheseusInTheMaze



Series: Alpha Klaus [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Female Alpha, Food, Grief, Incest, M/M, Male Omega, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nesting, Omegaverse, Pack Dynamics, Scenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 04:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21368344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Klaus was still getting used to the whole Alpha thing, okay?
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves
Series: Alpha Klaus [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580893
Comments: 13
Kudos: 269





	Five Times Klaus Took Care of Diego, And One Time Diego Took Care Of Him

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sluttyperalta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sluttyperalta/gifts).

1.

Klaus leaned back in his seat, rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

When he'd quit smoking, he hadn't thought that his sense of smell would get... like this. He hadn't realized just how nose blind he'd been, all of these years. He was beginning to understand why people kept telling him that he was missing some obvious clues. People seemed to say _so much_ with their scent, in ways he'd never even considered.

Now he just needed to learn how to navigate _that_.

He hadn't realized how scents lingered, for one thing. He could tell that Allison was going into rut soon, that Five had been teleporting throughout the whole place looking for... something, that Luther had sat at that one spot at the table for at least three hours, probably reading something. It was like the after image of a photo, lingering faintly. They were almost like ghosts, except everyone else could sense them, too. 

Vanya shot him a concerned look, and he smiled back at her in what he hoped was a reassuring way. He could smell her, too, smell the pungent shot of anxiety, like cigarette smoke. Although a lot of things smelled like cigarette smoke these days. God, he missed smoking.

Where had he been going with this?

"What's up?" Klaus looked at Vanya, looked down at his sandwich, then picked up the sandwich and mechanically took a bite out of it. It was peanut butter and banana - at least it wasn't one of Five's horrible marshmallow and peanut butter abominations. 

"I think something is bothering Diego," said Vanya. "He smells... y'know." She shrugged, making a vague hand motion.

Klaus smiled at her, touched in spite of himself. The two of them had bonded over the fact that neither of them was that used to being Alpha. At least he wasn't the only one who didn't have much practice at the ripe old age of thirty. 

"But," Vanya continued, "he's not really... talking to me." She shrugged, looked into her own cup of coffee. "I mean, he's talking to me, he's not, like... mad at me, he's just doing that thing where it's obvious that he's too cool to actually have the problem that he's having and you're just imagining it."

Klaus snorted, then began to cackle, nearly snorting crumbs out of his nose. He leaned back, laughing harder, and Vanya joined in. When they both caught their breath, Vanya's face was red and Klaus's chest was rising and falling. "I'll go check on him," he told Vanya. 

"Thanks," said Vanya, and she sighed. "I'm sorry I'm not better at this."

Klaus shrugged. "At least we both suck about equally," he said. "So there's no one person who sucks more than the other one."

"I know you mean that in a way that's supposed to be reassuring," said Vanya, "but I think you might've stuck the landing a bit." She was smiling at him, which took some of the nastiness out of what she had said. 

Klaus snorted and made a dismissive hand gesture. "Shows what you know," he said. "I'm the best of the best, and you know it." His therapist had been on him about being more positive about stuff, and he was doing his best to put it into motion. He wasn't entirely sure if he was any _good_ at it, admittedly, but at least he was trying. 

* * *

Klaus didn't really think about what it was he going to cook Diego until he was back in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove. He rocked on his heels, tapping his own chin, and he stared distantly into space. What did he _know_ how to cook, full proof? He didn't have much a repertoire, since he hadn't been living in one particular place for a long time.

Still.

He could make eggs. He wasn't very _good_ at making eggs, admittedly, but it wasn't too late for eggs. Would it count as him making food for Diego if he made his brother frozen waffles? That didn't feel like he was really the one doing it, if he just took frozen waffles from the box. Anyway, did Mom even have frozen waffles in the kitchen in the first place?

Anyway, Diego probably needed something that was a little bit more... food. Klaus doubted mister "My Body is a Temple" (urgh, that still made him roll his eyes) would ever deign to eat something as lowly as a boxed waffle. 

"I wonder if they make health food waffles," Klaus said into the empty kitchen. Then he wrinkled his nose. That sounded like the time their father had programmed Grace to make them more healthy foods, and she had brought them seven grain croissants. There had been _seeds_ in it, and in what universe were there seeds on a croissant? 

"Eggs it is," Klaus said, and he wondered, faintly, who he was talking to. There weren't any ghosts in the kitchen, apart from the smiling, smartly dressed women who congregated together and sometimes told them to eat better. They seemed to be keeping to themselves presently, which was lucky. Klaus didn't have the mental fortitude to deal with any ghosts presently. Not when Diego was walking around smelling like _that_. 

But he could do this. It was just eggs. Anyone could make eggs. It would be good for Diego, giving him some protein to withstand the battering that heat gave him. 

_I'd like to give a battering_, whispered the horny part of his brain that had gotten him into so much trouble over the course of his life. 

"None of that," Klaus said out loud, and he went back to digging through the fridge. 

* * *

Klaus knocked on Diego's bedroom door, and he shifted from foot to foot. He shouldn't have been so anxious about this. He didn't even know _why_ he was so anxious - it wasn't as if he was doing anything especially illicit. He was just checking on his beloved brother.

His hot, prickly Omega brother. 

Oh fuck.

Diego opened the door, and Klaus sneezed. 

"Oh," Klaus said thickly. 

Diego was going into heat. There wasn't really any other explanation for that deep, desperate scent. It was enough to make all of the little hairs on Klaus's body stand on end, his cock beginning to get hard. He was aware that he was blushing, that his heart was beating extra fast.

"What?" Diego's face was red, and there was sweat dripping down his face. He was scowling. 

_He must be staying at home because he's in heat_, though some calm part of Klaus's brain, a little oasis of quiet amongst the gibbering... everything else in his head. _I wouldn't wanna be in a boxing gym when I was in heat either, if I went into heat_. 

"Do you want any food?" That wasn't what Klaus had intended to say. He wasn't sure what it was that he had intended to say, but that was what had popped out of his mouth. 

"What?" Diego repeated, and he looked more puzzled than annoyed now.

"Food," Klaus repeated. "Do you want any food?" God, Diego smelled good. He wanted to press closer, nuzzling into Diego's neck. He wanted... well, he wanted a lot of things just then, but this wasn't the time or the place for that. 

"Could you be more specific when you say "food"?" Diego rubbed his eyes, and he looked very tired. He was still wearing his sweaty turtleneck, but he'd taken off his knife harness. His hair was standing up at odd angles, where he'd raked his fingers through it. 

"I can get you food," said Klaus. "If you want. Or I can make you food." Why was he offering this?

"Since when can you cook?" Diego raised an eyebrow. He didn't look quite so hostile now, at least. Just confused. He smelled... interesting. 

"I can do a ton of things," Klaus said, endeavoring to keep his tone haughty and to hide how ridiculous his boner was. It was a good thing he was wearing a long, swishy skirt. That, at least, kept most things hidden. As it were. 

"So why are you asking me this?" Diego rubbed the back of his neck, and he was beginning to look agitated again.

"You look like you need it," said Klaus, because _I think I'm giving in to my Alpha instincts, whatever those happen to be_ would probably not go over well. 

Diego gave him an appraising look. He usually had a way of telling when people were being nice to him because he was an Omega. Klaus had seen him go for someone's face more than once about that. "I could eat," he said after a minute or so. "If you're offering."

Klaus, who was legitimately rooted tk the spot from Diego's stare, took a moment to come back to himself. "Right," he said, and he cleared his throat. "Sit yourself down, and prepare to be amazed."

"I'm usually amazed when you manage to do something competently," Diego said. 

"That's not very nice," Klaus complained. "Just for that, I won't make you any toast."

"I don't trust you to make toast without burning it," Diego said. 

Klaus opened his mouth to make some snarky comment and about Diego's current condition... and then he closed it. For all that Diego was kind of a dick, it would be even more dickish to bring up his status at a time like this. Instead, he gave Diego a mock salute and turned around, making his way back to the kitchen. 

He stopped in the bathroom on the way there, pressing his forehead into the cold wood of the door and panting. _Fuck_. 

Klaus hadn't realized just how nose blind he had been, it seemed. 

* * *

Klaus came back upstairs with a plate of scrambled eggs, a glass of orange juice, and even a piece of toast. He had gone all out on this one, and had even gotten Vanya to taste test a few things. His sense of smell had gotten stronger since he had quit smoking, but he knew his sense of taste was still a tad... off. 

Vanya had freely admitted to not having much of a sense of taste either, due to her meds, so Klaus wasn't sure where that left Diego, but at least he was _trying_, right?

When Diego answered the door, he looked even more disheveled. Sweat was dripping down his face, and his chest rose and fell as he panted. He was downright red and blotchy, which didn't exactly match the rosy glow of heat that Klaus had read about in certain romance novels.

"What?" Diego snapped, looking blearily at Klaus. 

Klaus handed him the tray, before he had a chance to drop it. "I changed my mind about the toast," he said, and then he walked off before he had a chance to do or say anything stupid. Diego smelled so _good_ right now, and Klaus just wanted to drown in it. He was probably going to go hide in his bedroom and jerk off now. 

In a lot of ways, it was like being a teenager again, in all of its sticky, hormonal glory. He couldn't say that he had missed it, but at least this time he didn't have to dress in spandex and go fight crime. 

2\. 

Diego emerged from his room four days later, looking tired and crabby but more or less himself. He had to go to the doctor about... something. Klaus wasn't entirely paying attention, as he carefully worked on his latest knitting project. 

So far, it wasn't coming out so well. He kept messing up and having to go back and count stitches all over again, then start again. He could faintly hear Diego and Luther doing that thing they did now, where they clearly wanted to punch each other but were holding on to their politeness by the skin of their teeth. 

"I'm just going to ask Mom to wash your clothes separately," said Luther. "Not for every load, but just when you're recovering from..." Luther paused, cleared his throat, and Klaus didn't have to look up to know that Number One was blushing. 

"From being in heat," Diego said, irritable. "It isn't fair to make extra work for Mom just because you don't wanna catch Omega cooties -"

"That's not what I was saying," said Luther, and Klaus glanced up,seeing the way Luther's fists were starting to clench. 

"Oh yeah?" Diego was drawing himself up. "Because it sure as hell sounded like what you were saying."

"I could do it," said Klaus. 

There was an audible pause, and Klaus wondered if they had forgotten that he was there. It wouldn't be the first time. 

"What?" Diego looked at Klaus, nonplussed. 

"Your laundry," said Klaus. "I can do it."

"Since when do you do laundry?" Luther crossed his arms over his chest. There was so much arm to cross that it was a bit like watching a sped up tectonic shift. 

"I lived on my own for years and years," Klaus protested. "Of course I did laundry!"

"Then why did you always look... like that?" Diego made a vague hand motion. 

"That's not a very nice way to speak to someone who's willing to do you a favor," Klaus said, trying to keep his voice haughty. That had stung. 

And Diego… frowned. "Sorry," he said, and he looked intensely uncomfortable, but apologetic. "So you're really willing to do my laundry?"

"Sure," said Klaus. "I can keep working on my project." He held up his current knitting project; a rather lumpy grey blanket. 

"If you're sure," said Diego. 

"Thank you, Klaus," said Luther. 

Diego rolled his eyes, and Klaus had to resist the urge to put his head in his hands. The two of them were always going to be at each other's throats for the rest of time, it seemed. Even when they were trying to be courteous to each other, they managed to be snappy. 

At least they weren't throwing punches, which was a good start. 

"Just leave your stuff in the laundry room," Klaus said. "I'll wash my stuff with it."

"Aren't you worried about getting omega cooties all over your stuff?" Diego was saying it in such a casual way that it couldn't be casual. He was blushing again, the way he had when he was in heat. 

"Nah," said Klaus. "Anyway, most of my stuff still smells like cigarettes."

"Oh," said Diego, and he wrinkled his nose. 

"I mean," said Klaus, "I can wash our stuff separate, if it bugs you that much. We've got, like, a million washing machines."

"We've got four," said Diego.

"They can't all be in use right now," said Klaus, and he tried to sound more breezy than he felt. "C'mon. Just pile it all up in the laundry room, I'll get to it when I finish this row."

"If you're sure," said Diego. He still didn't look convinced.

"Do I ever offer to do shit that I'm not willing to do?" Klaus put down his needles, and he glared at Diego. He was wearing a pair of cheap yoga pants he'd gotten at a thrift store, and a big floppy sweater that may have been Diego's and may have been Ben's. 

It was interesting, living together like this and having all of their scents mingling again. They had been much more regimented as kids, and their father hadn't ever allowed them to do things like wear each other's clothes or scent mark... well, anything. They picked up the residue, because being around other people made you smell like them a little bit, but now that dear old Dad was gone they'd all gone a bit hog wild. Klaus hadn't realized just how much he was missing, not being able to smell anything.

No wonder everyone found his cigarette smoking so off putting. Although now he that he thought about it, he was about to go spend a whole bunch of up close and personal time with Diego's heat drenched sheets, which... well, that would be something. 

He'd be able to do it. He'd endured harder things. He was made of tough stuff!

* * *

Klaus groaned like he was in pain when he walked into the laundry room. It was full of the bright, sharp smell of laundry detergent, but... no, there was the smell of Diego's heat under all of it. It was a bit like a kick to the nose. The combination wasn't _pleasant_ per se, but there was a lot of it. The clothing was in a pile in the laundry basket, in front of a washing machine, and it practically had visible stink lines coming out of it like something out of a cartoon. 

Klaus pressed his face into his own laundry basket, his heart beating in his ears, and he tried to ignore how hard his cock was. He let the scents wrap around him like a blanket, and he tried to pay attention to his own breathing. This was all… a lot. A very lot. Much? 

“Wow,” Klaus said out loud, “you’re doing well, aren’t you?”

It was laundry. Klaus knew how to do laundry. It wasn’t a big deal. He’d do laundry, he’d maybe jerk off by himself, and then he’d get on with his life. It wasn’t a big deal. It’d be fine. Absolutely fine.

“It wasn’t this weird when I was a teenager,” Klaus said out loud, and his voice was very loud in the echoing laundry room. He shook his head to try to clear it, and then he looked at the two different laundry baskets in front of him. One of them was heaped full of dark blue sheets and black clothes that _fugged_ of omega in heat. It was enough to make Klaus’s head swim. He’d never realized just how good Diego could smell. He didn’t need to be this desperate for Diego, his brother was already too fucking hot for words.

Was it weird to think of Diego as his brother, when he had a boner like this? Or was he just overthinking things? After all, at the end of the day, this was all hormones. They all ran on hormones. It was just… hard to remember that at this point in time. 

"We're all just made of chemicals," Klaus said out loud, which sounded like the kind of bullshit he would have said in the bad ol' days, when he was still doing drugs. Still, in a weird way the drugs were further proof, weren't they? Chemicals to interact with all of the other chemicals. 

Klaus shook his head to jog whatever weirdness was circling around in his head, and he rubbed his face. He was tired, and he was too fucking horny for his own good. He was jittery, and he wasn't used to smelling so many things. He'd be fine. This would all be fine. It was laundry. Everyone could do laundry. 

His hands only shook a little bit as he loaded everything into the wash, but he even remembered to separate the whites and the colors, which was more than he ever really did for his own clothes. The scent of Diego's heat and hormones gradually faded away as Klaus dumped a liberal amount of laundry detergent over the heaped up fabric, and the scent only lingered as the nasal equivalent of an after image when he closed the lid.

Klaus wasn't sure if he was reassured or if he missed it, but at least the boner was going down. That made stuff a bit less confusing. He didn't want to think he was so far gone that he was getting boners over _laundry_. 

3.  
Klaus didn't go to the boxing gym that often. He'd never really been one for organized sports, and people _choosing_ to engage in violence recreationally always weirded him out. He'd joined the army, he'd fought in a war, he'd been a child superhero... all of those things had pretty much sucked. But it was where Diego hung his metaphorical hat, and Klaus needed to get out of the house more.

Anyway, there would be plenty of good looking people to ogle. Lucky for him Diego lived in such a convenient location for ogling. It gave Klaus extra incentive to leave the house.

He'd have to remember to tell Diego about that, when he got to the gym.

* * * 

The gym was relatively empty when he got there. Not many people interested in boxing at two in the afternoon on a Tuesday, apparently. He could hear the rattling of a punching bag, and he made his way towards it. 

It was Diego. 

It was Diego, shirtless, sweat streaming down his back. There was a grim set to his jaw, and he was hitting the punching bag so hard that Klaus glanced up to make sure the chain was still anchored firmly. 

Klaus knew what Diego was like, when he was glorying in the joy of violence. He'd grown up with the guy throwing knives at bank robbers and purse snatchers, he'd seen Diego get into street fights and bar fights. 

This seemed different. 

He was punching the way Klaus had seen some people drink, when they were getting near the bottom. Steady, unrelenting, no joy or precision. Just hit after hit after hit. It was giving Klaus the creeps.

"So," said Klaus, and he cleared his throat. 

"I'm not in the mood," Diego said flatly. 

"I haven't even said anything," Klaus protested, and he came around so that he was in Diego's eye line. "What seems to have gotten into you?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Diego repeated. He gave an especially vicious hit, and the bag swung.

Klaus was hit with a blast of scent, and he sneezed three times in succession. He'd never been able to read someone's feelings with his nose to this degree. Diego might have just been that unsubtle. 

"Well, uh, I think that bag has had enough," said Klaus. 

Diego didn't say anything, just kept hitting the bag.

"You must be dehydrating," Klaus said, after almost a minute where the only sounds were the _thud-thud-thud_ of Diego's gloves hitting the bag, and the pounding of Klaus's own heart in his ears. Was this what it was like to be Vanya, and be aware of all of the minute sounds that people made in their day to day life? 

No wonder she was so twitchy.

Diego didn't make any indication that he was hearing Klaus - maybe he was trying the old trick of being boring until Klaus went away. That had, admittedly, worked in the old days, but he was getting better about sticking around these days. Or maybe it was getting better about being annoying?

"I'll be back," said Klaus, and he made his way towards the back of the gym. 

Diego didn't give any indication that he had heard Klaus, but Klaus would have to take him for his word on that.

* * *

Klaus rifled through Diego's meager kitchen offerings. There wasn't... much, but at least there were cups. He had to let the tap run almost two minutes before it was cold enough for drinking, but eventually he filled the cup up, then made his way back towards the sound of Diego's punching. He had to walk very slowly, so as not to spill the water out. 

Diego was still punching like a machine. When they were still fighting crime on the regular, they had gone against an evil toy maker, and he had created a mechanical boxing kangaroo. Klaus was reminded of that, more than anything else. 

"Diego," he said, and his brother seemed to be pulled out of his fugue state.

"What?" Diego was scowling.

"I brought you some water," said Klaus.

"Why?" Diego blinked. He looked like he might have been high, except Diego would never try to taint his temple of a body with something as pedestrian as drugs. There was a runners high - could there be a boxer's high?

"You look like you need it," said Klaus. 

"I'm fine," Diego said, and he made a dismissive hand gesture. At least, Klaus assumed it was a dismissive hand gesture. It was kind of hard to tell, when Diego was wearing boxing gloves like that. 

"I don't think I've ever seen you that, uh... intensely concentrated," said Klaus. He was still holding the cup of water.

Diego blinked at him, and then seemed to be pulled out of whatever fugue state he had been in. "Can I get that water?"

"You need to take the gloves off," Klaus said, and he tried to keep his tone gentle. "It's kind of hard to hold a cup in those things."

"Oh," said Diego, and he groaned, shaking his head again. "Gimme a sec."

Klaus stood there, as awkward as an extra finger, and he rocked on his heels, trying not to spill the water. When Diego held his hand out wordlessly, Klaus handed it over. 

"So," said Klaus, as Diego drank. He watched the way Diego's throat bobbed, and he tried not to stare too hard as a few droplets trickled out of the corners of Diego's mouth, to soak into the neckline of Diego's tank top. 

"So," Diego echoed. He ran a hand through his hair, then made a face, presumably at how sweaty he was. "Why are you here?"

"I can't just come and visit my brother?" Klaus crossed his arms, and tried to think cold thoughts. He wasn't wearing the type of pants he could really hide an erection in. 

"You always want something," Diego said, and he sounded faintly resigned. "At least you're consistent like that."

"You wound me," said Klaus, and he held a hand over his heart, making a dramatic hand gesture.

"Yeah, but that don't make it any less true," Diego said flatly. "I'm not in the mood for your bullshit, Klaus. Do you need to borrow money?"

Klaus faltered. "You know," he said, "you can be really hurtful. This might be the reason why nobody else comes to visit you."

Diego's scent changed. It wasn't even a subtle shift, like Klaus associated with a certain class of romance novel. It went sour, unpleasant, and then Diego was scowling. "You should go," Diego said, his voice flat. His hands were shaking. 

"I'm sorry," said Klaus. "I obviously hit a nerve there."

"I don't have any nerves to hit," Diego said, and he shoved the cup back at Klaus, then putting the boxing gloves on. "G-g-g-go home."

... Huh. Diego was stuttering. That sure meant something. 

"Since I didn't hit any, I obviously don't have a reason to leave you alone," Klaus said cheerfully. "You're gonna fuck yourself up if you keep whaling on that thing like that."

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Diego glared at Klaus. His chest was rising and falling.

"Not really, no," said Klaus. "The fun thing about being an addict who was never good for much of anything in life is that my social calendar has ended up pretty empty." 

"Don't you have a support group or something to go to?" At least Diego wasn't punching the bag with that same manic intensity. He hadn't started to punch yet, which as a good sign. 

"Not presently, no," said Klaus. "Diego," he said, and he tried to keep his voice calm, steady. Tried to project the feeling of _safety_, although he wasn't sure if he was doing it right. "Diego, if you want me to go home and leave you alone, I will. But I wanna help you. If I can." 

"You wouldn't understand," said Diego, but he seemed to be softening.

"I can at least make sympathetic noises," said Klaus.

"Eudora is getting married," said Diego. His voice was a flat monotone.

"Oh," said Klaus. "The lady cop?" 

"Yep," said Diego. More flatness.

"And you're upset because you're still in love with her," Klaus guessed.

"I'm not in love with her," Diego snapped. "I'm... not."

"Of course not," agreed Klaus quickly. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"She was... she was my Alpha," said Diego. He was getting ever quieter. "She... she was my first."

"Oh," said Klaus, then; "_Oh_."

"And I know that shit isn't permanent or whatever," Diego said, "but..." He trailed off.

"Let's go out," said Klaus. 

"Out," Diego echoed. "What kind of out?"

"We can have a night on the town," Klaus said earnestly. "You and me. Eligible bachelors, doing the kinds of things that eligible bachelors do!"

Diego raised an eyebrow. He didn't look impressed.

"Listen," said Klaus, and he risked putting his hands on Diego's shoulders, looking his brother in the face, "you're hurting. You need to not be in this dingy gym by yourself. Why don’t you come over, we can watch some shitty kung fu movie or whatever else your heart desires, eat popcorn.”

“I thought you hated shitty kung fu movies,” said Diego.

“I developed a taste for them in rehab,” said Klaus. “Reminds me of simpler times.”

“You are so weird,” said Diego, but at least he seemed to be feeling a bit better. He’d lost a lot of that sour scent. 

Klaus wasn’t really sure what else he could do, but at least a distraction was something, right?

* * *

“She wasn’t really good at being an Alpha,” Diego said, hours later. He had showered, they had a big bowl of popcorn between the two of them. They were both staring at the television, although Klaus would occasionally shoot a glance at Diego. 

“No?” Klaus grabbed his own handful of popcorn.

“Yeah,” said Diego. “She didn’t have a lot of patience. At least, with me.”

“I don’t know much about being an Alpha, good or otherwise,” said Klaus. “And you’d make anyone crazy.” 

"Aren't you supposed to be cheering me up?" Diego shot Klaus a look. 

Klaus blanched, tried not to look too guilty. Diego had seen right through him, huh? "You wouldn't appreciate it if I was bullshitting you," he said, instead of trying to deny anything."

Diego's expression softened. "Yeah," he said, and he sighed. "Yeah, you're right." He gave Klaus a slightly sad smile. "Thanks for the effort, at least."

"Just doin' my best," Klaus demurred. 

* * *

4\. 

"I think Diego is in a mood," said Allison. She was staring moodily into her cup of coffee, her hair wrapped up and dark circles under her eyes.

"He isn't the only one," said Klaus, leaning back in his chair and eyeing her. "What's got you so sulky?"

"I'm not sulky," Allison said. "I'm just... dealing with stuff." She put her coffee down, and rested her elbows on the table, her chin in her palm.

"What kind of stuff?" Klaus leaned forward, intrigued... and then he leaned back, sneezing. 

"I'm in rut," Allison told Klaus flatly.

"Oh," said Klaus. "Yeah, that'd be some stuff." He wiped his streaming nose, and he tried not to let his shoulders go up around his ears. 

Allison snorted. "I'm surprised you couldn't tell from me just walking in," she told Klaus, and now she looked faintly amused. "Vanya ran for the hills when she came in."

"That explains the look on her face," Klaus agreed. Then he shrugged. "The ol' sniffer is still a bit stunted, I suspect," he said. 

Allison muttered something that was probably uncharitable, and Klaus chose to ignore it. Rut wasn't easy on anyone. 

"So why do you think something is up with Diego?" Klaus leaned back in his seat, and tried to ignore the way Allison was smelling. 

"He's here, for one thing, instead of his boiler room," said Allison. "Holed up in his old room. I'm kinda surprised you weren't able to tell, since the two of you are so close."

"We're not that close," Klaus said automatically, because... well. Actually, he wasn't sure why he was saying it. Why was he getting so grumpy? "But," he said, before he could start thinking himself in circles, "what else is up?" 

"I think he's nesting," said Allison. 

"Nesting," Klaus echoed. 

"Nesting," Allison agreed.

"I could say it again," Klaus said. "I feel like that'd make it funnier, but I also feel like it might annoy you enough to throw something at my head."

Allison snorted, and she smiled at him. "You're such a pain in the ass," she told him.

"It's a heavy burden, but someone has to do it," said Klaus, and he preened. "What would you do without me?"

"Probably have a more restful breakfast," said Allison.

"You can't have everything you want in life," said Klaus. "I'll go check on Diego."

"I'm not sure if that's the best idea," said Allison. Now she looked uneasy. 

"Why?" Klaus stood up, rubbing his hands together. He took his bowl of oatmeal in the sink, and he pulled his own bathrobe a little tighter around himself. It was a silk thing, light blue with loud, bright sunflowers printed along it. 

"Omegas who are nesting can be, uh..." She appeared to be searching for a word. "They can get a little... defensive," she said finally. "Patrick used to get snappy at me if I walked in on him while he was nesting."

"Is nesting, like, a sign of pregnancy?" Klaus was a bit out to sea. He didn't have a lot of experience with healthy omegas. 

"I mean, it can be," said Allison. "But some omegas just do it when they're stressed."

"Right," said Klaus. "That makes sense." 

"But," said Allison, "he's an Omega who's feeling anxious and nervous, who also throws knives. I feel like it would be a bad idea to go bother him."

"What's the worst he can do?" Klaus made a dismissive hand gesture.

Allison gave him a Look, then shrugged. "Your funeral," she told Klaus, although he didn't think she meant it.

"Make sure that you do it on a day with some wind, at least," said Klaus, and he stood up, making his way up the stairs.

He heard Allison's snicker as he made his way out of the kitchen.

* * *

Klaus made his way down the hallway, and he tried not to wrinkle his nose. He could smell... something. He wasn't sure what it was, exactly, but it was putting him on edge. Diego must have been upset about something, if it was setting him off this much. 

He knocked on Diego’s closed door, and there was the thump of something hitting the door as it was thrown. At least there wasn’t the familiar sound of vibration, which implied it wasn’t a knife.

Thank fuck for small favors. 

“Go away,” said Diego.

“What’s up?” Klaus leaned on the door.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Diego. He sounded tired. 

“You don’t have to,” said Klaus, “but I’m bored.”

Not strictly true, but he knew that Diego was more likely to… at least try to be accommodating for someone else, versus for himself. He was neurotic like that. As if any of the Hargreeves family were anything but neurotic.

“Can’t you find something in this giant mansion to entertain yourself with?” There was rustling behind the door, and then the sound of the knob being turned, and Diego was standing in the doorway. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a tank top, and he had a sheet wrapped around his shoulders. He looked very tired. 

“I want you to entertain me,” said Klaus. “Or at least, keep me company.”

“Why?” Diego at least took a step back, and he let Klaus into his room. There was a big pile of blankets in the middle of the bed; Allison had been right. Diego was nesting. 

“Because Allison is in rut and it’s poking weird buttons in my head,” said Klaus, which wasn’t the whole truth, but close enough. “You don’t smell like that.”

“You could, y’know, go outside,” said Diego.

“I’d have to put on real clothes for that,” said Klaus, his tone dismissive. 

"I'm not feeling especially entertaining," Diego said. He looked very tired, and now that they were in closer proximity, Klaus could see that Dieog looked downright banged up. 

"What happened to you?" Klaus shouldered his way into the room. There was a big blanket hung over the window, blocking out the morning light, and the whole room was dim, almost stifling. 

"I don't wanna talk about it," said Diego. "If you're gonna come in, close the door."

Klaus closed the door.

"I had a bad night," Diego said, and then he was climbing back into the bed, the blanket still wrapped around him. He seemed to have pilfered blankets from all over the house, and had made himself a nest.

Klaus noted that Diego was moving stiffly, and he frowned. "Did you get into a fight?" He paused. "A worse fight than usual," he amended. 

"What part of _I don't want to talk about it_ do you not get?" Diego snapped. 

Klaus shrugged, and he sat down next to Diego. "I've had bad nights too," he said, trying to keep his tone light. "Not, like... the same kind of bad night that you're recovering from, clearly.

"You have no idea," Diego said, and he sighed. It mad his shoulders, and Klaus could just make them out in the dim outline of the room.

"Well, no, because you won't tell me," said Klaus. He put a cautious arm around Diego's shoulder - his omega brother had always been very clear about defending his own personal space, and Klaus didn't want to be snapped at. Literally or metaphorically. 

"There are some bad people out there," Diego said. His voice was very quiet. "Bad people, and no matter what I do, sometimes it feels like it isn't enough."

Klaus kept his mouth shut. It seemed like Diego was having a lot of feelings all at once, and Klaus wasn't going to be the one to stunt Diego's emotional growth. Or whatever this was.

"I know that Dad wanted us to stand against evil or whatever the fuck it was," said Diego, and now his voice was getting choked off. "B-b-b-but I don't think he knew evil c-c-c-could be this... bad." 

"He didn't know a lot of things," Klaus said, and he held Diego a little tighter. 

"I don't... know," Diego said, and his voice went quiet. His shoulders were shaking again. 

"Do you... want to talk about what you saw?" Klaus's voice was tentative now.

"_No_," Diego said with feeling. "No, it... it was..." He heaved a gusty sigh of relief. "B-b-bad," he said, and then he frowned. His whole body was going tense, the way it always did when he was angry.

"I'm sure you've seen some pretty bad shit," said Klaus. 

"W-w-what if Eudora was right? That I'm only d-d-doing this for... whatever it was that D-D-Dad wanted us to be?" The stutter seemed to be coming out in force now, and Diego could smell the frustration emanating from Diego like smoke. 

"You're doing important work," Klaus said, although he probably wasn't the right person to be giving this little pep talk. "You're doing _very_ important work. You get the people the police miss."

"_How_ could they miss this?!" That came out as almost a howl, and Klaus winced, and tightened his grip around Diego. "How could th-th-they miss -" He cut himself off, and then he was crying. 

It wasn't crying the way Klaus cried, loud and noisy and dramatic. There were tears dripping down his face, to puddle along his chin, down his neck. His nose was running, and he was shaking so hard that Klaus was a little afraid. 

Klaus held on, and he made reassuring noises. Whatever it was that Diego had seen had left him rattled, rattled in a way that Klaus had never seen before.

"Fuck," Diego said, and his voice cracked. "This is... this is pretty pathetic." He didn't stop leaning against Klaus, and he kept the blanket wrapped around himself. 

Klaus shrugged, and he gave Diego what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. "At least you didn't shit yourself," he said, his tone contemplative.

"... What?" Diego sat up, and he looked sidelong at Klaus, the whites of his eyes practically glowing in the dim room. 

"At least you didn't shit yourself," Klaus repeated. "I mean, if you want to talk about pathetic, at least you didn't shit yourself."

"What the fuck does shitting yourself have to do with being pathetic?" Diego rubbed his eyes, and he sat up. He stayed pressed against Klaus, though, and Klaus had to admit, his scent was still... calming. 

"I mean, at my most pathetic I did," said Klaus. "Shit myself, I mean."

"... Huh," said Diego. "I don't think I ever saw you that low."

"You've seen me pretty low," said Klaus. "So like... just because you're having feelings because you saw something shitty doesn't make you pathetic." He cleared his throat. "I just... wanted you to know that. That you're... that you're not pathetic. You'd be a monster if the shit you saw didn't leave a dent."

Diego sighed, a long, hard sigh. "You're getting something like emotionally healthy since you got off the shit," he told Klaus. "It's weird."

"You don't think that maybe I'm getting in touch with my Alpha instincts?" Klaus made an attempt at puffing his chest out. It didn't do much.

Diego snorted. "In what universe is being emotionally healthy an Alpha thing?" He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, and he leaned back into the bed, with its pile of blankets. "Aren't you chucklefucks supposed to think with your knots?"

Klaus shrugged. "I'm an atypical Alpha," he reminded Diego. "Remember?" 

"You're atypical, alright," Diego said, but there wasn't much venom in his voice. Then he sighed. "I used to be jealous of you, y'know that?"

"What, jealous of _me_?" That was news to Klaus. 

"You got to be an Alpha," Diego said. "You got to be big and tough and strong, everyone respected you... except you weren't. You wasted all of your potential for so much, to get high." 

"Yeah, but I was never _good_ at being an Alpha," Klaus said. "As you point out, I spent most of my life getting high, and I'm not exactly the masculine epitome of macho Alpha-hood." He'd met a lot of guys who were surprisingly into Topping an Alpha. 

"Yeah," Diego said, and he sighed, long and gusty. "I always felt I had to work twice as hard just to be taken seriously. Because I'm an Omega."

_The world isn't like that anymore_ was on the tip of Klaus's tongue, or maybe _yeah, but at least people take you seriously when you try_, but no, that was a dickish thing to say. They'd all had to deal with bullshit. 

"Oh well," Diego said, and he pulled his blanket tighter around himself. Then he cleared his throat. "Can I borrow your coat?" 

"My coat?" Klaus looked down at his coat. It was the patchwork one, with the furry sleeves.

"Never mind," Diego said, and he was staring at his hands.

"Nah, you can have it," Klaus said, and he shrugged out of the coat, handing it over. "All yours, bud."

"Don't condescend me," Diego groused. He was running his hands over the furry sleeves.

"A thousand pardons," Klaus said dryly, and he gave a mock salute. "Better?" 

"Go fuck yourself," Diego said, without any venom.

"I do my best," Klaus agreed. "Do you... do you want company?"

"I think I'm gonna sleep," said Diego. He was still petting the sleeves of Diego's coat.

"Okay," said Klaus. "Well, have a good sleep."

"Mm," said Diego, and he yawned. At least he looked less stressed. He didn't seem to notice when Klaus stood up carefully, and didn't even twitch when Klaus let the door click shut behind him. 

* * * 

Klaus's coat was hanging on the back of his own door, when he got out of the bath hours later. It still smelled like Diego, and Klaus spent more time than he should have rubbing his face in it. There was something sweet about the fact that Diego had been nesting with his coat. Something that made him feel special. 

He wasn't used to feeling special like that. 

5\. 

Klaus stretched out on the bed in Diego's boiler room apartment, his feet dangling off of the edge of the bed. He had his hands behind his head, and he was idly watching Diego digging through his dresser. 

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Diego groused.

"What am I fucking kidding you about?" Klaus yawned wide enough that his jaw cracked. 

"I'm out of socks," said Diego. 

"Out of socks," Klaus echoed, sitting up on his elbows. "How can you be out of socks? Socks aren't a limited resource." His own feet were bare, and he wriggled his toes. He needed to paint them a new color soon - maybe some kind of blue. 

"Well, they may not be a limited resource in the real world, but all of _my_ socks have holes in them," said Diego. He held up a pair of white athletic socks, and there was a hole in the heel and a hole in the toe of the other one. 

"How do you do that?" Klaus sat up, and he stretched, rotating his ankles and cracking his back. He was looking Diego up and down, licking his lips. Diego was wearing a tank top a pair of sweatpants, and he looked like something out of the centerfold of a certain type of magazine. 

"I just... wear my socks," said Diego, and there was a slightly defensive note to his voice. "I'll have to go and get more socks, though. " He made a face. "I hate shopping."

"Right," said Klaus. He was distracted by all the scents around him - the whole place smelled like Diego, and he just wanted to curl up in it, surround himself with it. He'd never realized that Diego smelled _this_ good. He hadn't ever felt this... lazily domestic. 

Not that he was complaining. It was relaxing, on a level he didn't know he could achieve. 

"Why are you here?" Diego stood there, looking under dressed and sexy. "Not that it's not nice to see you," he added, almost as an afterthought, and Klaus's own stomach did a twitchy little jump at that, because that was a little bit of sweetness that Diego hadn't needed to throw in. 

"Allison is in rut," said Klaus, "and I don't have it in me to deal with that right now."

"Oh," said Diego, and then he laughed, a full on belly laugh. "Is she going into full on fussy Alpha mode?" 

"Pretty much, yeah," said Klaus. "She's doing that thing where she's being... like, aggressively mothering. Which is fine and all, but... I needed a breather." He was more sympathetic than he had been, at least; these days, he could at least understand where she was coming from. 

"Have you had your rut yet?" Diego's tone was casual. Almost too casual. Something about it was setting off odd alarm bells in Klaus's head. 

"Nope, not since a few months ago," said Klaus. 

"It is pretty easy to figure out when you're in rut," said Diego at he kept digging through his drawer. "Last time you stank up the whole place."

"It was my first rut," Klaus protested. "You weren't exactly a bed of roses during your first heat, y'know."

"I was fifteen," Diego protested. "Who smells good when they're fifteen?" 

"I smelled amazing as a teenager," Klaus said, keeping his voice lofty. 

"You wore so much perfume that Mom once thought we were having a gas attack," countered Diego. 

"Dad just had a thing about perfume," said Klaus. 

"Dad had a thing about everything," said Diego. 

"At least we came out relatively normal," said Klaus. He was mostly joking, but the grateful look that Diego shot him made his cheat seize up. 

"Yeah," Diego agreed. "Mostly normal." He was holding two pairs of socks now, each of them only minimally hole-y. 

"You need more socks," said Klaus. 

"I'll get around to it," said Diego, and then he sat down on the bed next to Klaus, beginning to pull his socks on. 

* * *

Klaus stood in the men's athletic wear section of the big box store, and he tried to figure out Diego's shoe size. This was actually kind of embarrassing - he was trying to do his brother a good turn here, and he had forgotten how big Diego's feet actually _were_. They were... foot sized. How big was foot sized? Fucked if he knew.

It would probably be more... something if he _made_ Diego socks - like, if he knitted them. He liked the idea of doing that, except for the fact that he didn't really have any illusions about his attention span, and he wanted to give Diego more than one sock every three months. 

This didn't feel like the Alpha instincts that he'd grown up reading about. He'd always felt defective because he'd prefer _not_ to get into fights if he could get away with it, and was generally happy to let other people do the metaphorical heavy lifting in unpleasant situations. He just... wanted to feed everyone. Feed everyone and protect everyone, give them what they needed, what they wanted. That was a totally normal thing to want, right? 

It wasn't the kind of Alpha instincts that Vanya talked about, but then again, Vanya was a neurotic case. As much as he loved his sister, she was... weird. Then he snickered to himself, because... well, he wasn't exactly the picture of normalcy, was he? 

Would Diego see this as some kind of weird power play... thing? He didn't want Diego to think that it was an Alpha thing, because it wasn't. It totally wasn't. It was just one brother doing another brother a solid. Especially since aforementioned brother didn't actually have any solid socks presently.

(It was totally an Alpha thing.) 

Klaus groaned, and he grabbed a packet of socks that looked like the ones that Diego had been holding up. Maybe he'd knit his brother some socks at some point in the near future. In the meantime, he was going to buy these cheap socks, and hopefully Diego wouldn't get offended about it. The guy could get surprisingly testy. Klaus would have considered that Diego possibly had some kind of Napoleon complex, if not for the fact that Diego was of pretty average height for a dude. Although come to think of it, that would explain a few other things...

Klaus shook his head to clear it, and began to make his way towards the checkout. He'd found himself going on a lot more tangents since he'd gone sober. His attention span seemed to have gotten... not worse, per se, but definitely _weirder_. He hadn't even realized that was a thing that could happen. Some of the many wonders of sobriety, it seemed. He snagged a chocolate bar as well - he'd been snacky since he'd quit smoking, although he didn't know how much of that was him being hungry and how much he just missed having things in his mouth.

The mental image of being on his knees in front of Diego, sucking Diego's cock, floated across his mind like a leaf over a stream. He flushed, and he licked his lips, shifting in place, trying to hide the erection that was pressing against his thigh. 

_Fuck_. 

He paid for the socks, and he made his way towards a coffee shop. He could calm himself down with some caffeine (that was a contradiction, wasn't it?) and work very hard to _not_ think about sucking off Diego, or Diego riding his dick, or kissing Diego, or...

"Fuck my life," Klaus said out loud, and he rubbed his face with both hands. Everyone would be able to smell how turned on he was. He could almost smell it himself.

Who knew he had any shame in him, considering all the other things he'd ended up doing to himself in public? At least everyone was very politely ignoring him, which helped a little. He was learning all of the ins and outs of navigating in the world where people could tell so much by smell. It was more than a little bit stressful to be learning these things at the ripe old age of thirty (and hoo _boy_ was it a ripe old age, presently), but at least he was getting there. 

It would be okay.

It would all be okay. 

* * *

"Here," said Klaus, and he shoved the package of socks at Diego. 

Diego, who had just opened the door to his apartment, blinked at Klaus. "What?"

"You needed socks," said Klaus. "I got you new socks." 

Diego wasn't wearing a shirt, and he had been sweating. The scent of omega wafted out into the hallway, and Klaus's cock was already getting hard. He was too much of a goddamn horn dog these days. 

He needed to talk to Allison and Vanya about this at some point, compare some notes. See if there was any way that they knew how to handle this bullshit. It could _not_ be normal to want to need to show up at your omega brother's house to bring him socks. Even though he'd been sitting on it for literal days. 

"Why are you knocking on my door at ten in the morning to give me socks?" Diego ran a hand across the top of his head, and there was more sweat. Klaus wanted to _lick_ it, and that couldn't be normal. He watched Diego's mouth while his brother was speaking, and he got harder. 

"Because you needed socks," said Klaus, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. Because it was. Kind of.

"This couldn't wait until we had dinner tomorrow night?" Diego stood aside, wordlessly inviting Klaus into the apartment, and that was an honor in and of itself, wasn't it? Diego had always been one to value his privacy, 

"You needed socks," Klaus repeated firmly. He flopped onto the bed, and he pressed his face into Diego's pillow, burrowing into it. The smell of his brother filled his whole head, and he sighed, deep and gusty. Some of the restlessness was leaving his limbs.

"You are such a fuckin' weirdo," Diego said, and he nudged Klaus in the side. "Budge over, you're taking too much space."

"You're not gonna kick me out?" Klaus kicked his shoes off awkwardly, and he shrugged out of his coat, leaving him in just his pants and his tank top. He was already starting to sweat, and he could almost smell himself.

"You're in some kind of mood," said Diego, and he flopped onto the bed beside Klaus, turning onto his side. The curve of his spine pressed against Klaus's arm, and Klaus curled around him, his chin on Diego's shoulder. "You'll figure it out in your own time." He yawned loud enough that his jaw creaked. 

"So you're being all nice to me due to emotional turmoil? Aw, Diego, I didn't know you cared." Klaus snuffled into the back of Diego's neck, and got a swat on the arm in response. 

"You're tickling me," Diego groused, and he nudged Klaus's calf with his foot. "I know it'll take more energy to kick you out than to just let you sort it out." His voice was drowsy. "Although I'd appreciate you not having your boner up against my ass."

"I don't have a boner," Klaus said automatically, although he hadn't taken any stock in his body. He was a bit too distracted by... well, everything.

Diego ground his hips back, and Klaus moaned, right in Diego's ear. He would have been embarrassed, but he didn't have it in him right now. All he could think about was the patch of scent, right behind Diego's ear. "You have a boner," he told Klaus, not unkindly, "and if you don't stop pressing it against me I'm gonna kick you out of this bed."

"I'm sorry," Klaus said, and he rolled onto his other side, with some effort. "I know it's -"

"Klaus," Diego said in a long suffering tone of voice, "I'm not insulted or bothered or whatever by you having a boner. But I need to _sleep_. So go home and jerk off or stay here and be quiet, but _let me sleep_."

"Right," Klaus said, and he let his mouth snap shut. He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling, and he let it all wash over him. _He's not mad at me_, he told himself, and he yawned as well. True, he was horny, but that didn't mean... it didn't mean anything. He wasn't just a dick that walked like a man (contrary to what way too many people seemed to consider). 

Diego rolled over as well, and he slung an arm across Klaus's middle. "You need to calm down," he said, and his breath was hot. "You're freaking out."

"I am not," Klaus groused. 

"You are," said Diego, and he sat up just enough to look Klaus in the face. "Listen. If I can get over my hang ups about being an omega, you can learn how to deal with all the bullshit that is no doubt involved in being an Alpha." 

Klaus didn't really have an argument for that. 

"Sorry," Klaus said. 

"Don't be sorry," Diego said, and he gave Klaus a half hazard pat on the leg. "Just go to sleep."

"You know, _you're_ the nocturnal one here, not me," groused Klaus, as he snuggled down into the bed.

"Bullshit," said Diego, although his voice was getting sleepy. "I've seen you pacing around in the mansion."

"What were you doing in the mansion in the first place?"

"You leave the lights on in the rooms you're pacing around and then turn them off as you leave 'em," said Diego. "I just watch 'em moving."

"I don't know if that's sweet or spooky," said Klaus.

"Split the difference," Diego said, and then he went quiet. 

Klaus lay in Diego's small bed, his heart beating in his ears, and he tried to ignore his boner. The whole room smelled like Diego; Omega, leather, metal, sweat. It was making Klaus's whole body break out in goosebumps, waves of heat that washed over him like he was sitting on the edge of the ocean. 

He fell asleep with his nose pressed into Diego's extra pillow, and he dreamed red, heated dreams. 

+1

Klaus lay in his own bed, and he groaned piteously. 

He had been woken up by Diego late in the afternoon, and he had realized with some surprise that he still had a bone. Then Diego had driven him home, and had muttered about "Alphas and their stupid hormones," and Klaus had realized with some surprise that he was going into rut. 

Which made no sense, because he'd just _had_ a rut, right?

... No, actually. He hadn't. And maybe being in the presence of such a good smelling Omega that he had feelings for was doing _something_ to his hormones, or maybe he was just due for a rut, but whatever it was, well... he was feeling it.

He had jerked off three times. He'd popped his knot into his fist, he'd had a truly monumental orgasm that left him seeing stars. He may have been thinking about Diego, but it had all been such a blur that he didn't entirely remember all of it. And now he was lying on his bed, dried spunk on his chest, and he was trying to get his brain into some kind of working order. He was still hard, and he still wanted... he didn't know what he wanted. 

He had taken one of Diego's shirts, and he still had his face still buried in it. It was all sweaty, and he was probably feeding every stupid knothead stereotype, but also... Diego smelled so _good_, and he didn't want it to ever stop. He snuffled into the worn cotton, and his cock gave another twitch.

"I don't think I have any more orgasms in me," he mumbled to his ceiling. "My dick may fall off."

It twitched against his belly, and he groaned, rolled onto his belly. "This is stupid," he said into his pillow. "I didn't sign up for this."

"None of us did," said Diego from the door.

Klaus made a noise that was honestly quite embarrassing, and he groped around for his covers. "Don't you _knock_?!" 

"I didn't know if you'd hear me if I did," said Diego. He looked faintly uncomfortable, and he was holding a plate. "I made you food."

Klaus blinked at Diego, trying to get his thoughts in order and also trying not to hump into his bed while he lay on his stomach like this. "What?"

"Food," Diego repeated, and he set the plate on Klaus's bedside table. "The stuff you eat."

"Oh," said Klaus. "Why?" He groped around, found a robe that was crumpled up on his bed, then paused, and made a circular motion. "Turn around," he said.

Diego crossed his arms, raised an eyebrow. "You don't have anything I haven't seen before," he said dryly. 

"You may have seen it on other people, but it wasn't _me_," Klaus protested. "C'mon. Can you give me a little bit of dignity?"

Diego snorted, but he turned around. "I'd thought you'd given up on dignity," he told Klaus.

"I never give up," Klaus said, and he kept his tone earnest. He shoved Diego's shirt under his pillow, and he pulled the robe around himself. It didn't entirely hide the way his cock was tenting the fabric, but he was at least holding on to the semblance of dignity. 

"You're kidding, right?" Diego's tone was sardonic. 

"I don't lately," Klaus amended. 

"Well," said Diego, "good on you for at least trying to reclaim what you've lost."

Klaus tied his robe closed, and he rubbed a hand through his sweaty hair. "Aren't we at the age where we try to regain our lost youth?"

"Klaus," said Diego, speaking to Klaus's dresser, "we're barely thirty. I feel like we haven't gotten _that_ desperate yet."

"I'm decent," said Klaus, and then he began to snicker. "Well, I'm at least not naked anymore."

"I was gonna say," Diego said dryly, but he turned around, leaning against the dresser.

"Oh, shut up," Klaus grabbed, and he beckoned for the food. "Gimme. I'm fuckin' _starving_!" 

"Have you eaten anything since you got up?" Diego held the plate out. There were waffles, drowning in syrup, the way Klaus used to eat them when he was still a hungry teenager.

Klaus took the plate, and he grabbed a waffle, getting syrup all over his fingers. "Nope. I woke up, jerked off three times, got up to piss, slept, and then you woke me up."

"What, three times?" Diego's eyebrows went up.

"It's rut," Klaus said defensively, cramming half of the waffle into his mouth. "These are really good - did you dig up the old waffle iron?"

"I see your table manners are as good as they ever were," Diego said dryly. 

"I'm an Alpha," said Klaus. "Shouldn't I be like... getting into a fight with someone and then getting my nose broken or something?"

"That's more my job," said Diego, "although I've never had my nose broken."

"That's good," said Klaus. "It's a nice nose."

"Thanks... I think," said Diego. 

"What can I say? I'm just embracing my Alpha nature, showering you with compliments." Klaus fluttered his eyelashes at Diego, although the look of it was probably ruined by the fact that he had syrup dripping down his chin.

"For fuck sake," said Diego, in a tone that was exasperated and affectionate at the same time. He grabbed a napkin out of his pocket, and he bent down in front of Klaus, and he grabbed Klaus's chin.

Klaus froze, and he was acutely aware of the point of contact. He was shaking, and his mouth was dry. His cock was so hard, _god_, all he wanted was to... was to...

"I've got a really intense boner right now," Klaus blurted out.

"Well, yes, I realize that," Diego said. He was still wiping up the syrup dripping down Klaus's chin. "What with you being in rut."

"No, like... it's..." Klaus trailed off, his eyes tracing the shape of Diego's mouth. "You're, like, really hot."

"Thank you," Diego said. "I'd return the favor but you are literally covered in maple syrup."

"I'm not _covered_ in it," Klaus protested. "I've got a light coating."

"I did give you a fork, y'know," said Diego. He got off of his haunches, and went to sit on the bed next to Klaus. 

Klaus leaned closer, because Diego smelled downright _intoxicating_. He wanted to press his face into the space where Diego's neck met his shoulder, wanted to dig his teeth in, wanted to sink his teeth as deep into Diego's -

"Klaus," Diego said, "eat your waffles."

"Huh?" Klaus jerked out of his reverie, and almost dropped the waffles. "What?"

"You're spacing out," said Diego. He gave Klaus a sympathetic pat on the arm. "I remember when I had my first few heats," he said, and that was a surprise. Diego usually tried not to talk about aspects of his being an omega. "I used to get really spacey."

"This is almost as bad as withdrawal," Klaus grumbled, and he took another bite of waffle.

"What, really?" Diego looked surprised.

"Well, okay, no," said Klaus. "Nothing is as bad as withdrawal. I'd rather chew my own fingers off again than go through withdrawal again. I nearly did at one point."

"Jesus Christ," said Diego, making a face. 

"They looked vaguely like sausages," Klaus said, mainly to lighten the mood. He didn't want to go into the actual reasoning, the actual... well, any of that. It had all been a mess of desperation and... well, a lot of things.

Sobriety might have been tedious, but at least he didn't have to worry about feeling like there were insects under his skin. 

"You know, I don't believe half of the shit that comes out of your mouth," said Diego.

"Hey, we've got an upgrade from the old days, when you didn't believe _anything_ that came out of my mouth," said Klaus.

"You say less shit these days," Diego countered. "It makes it easier to believe you."

"You wound me," Klaus said, and he put a hand up to his chest in mock horror. 

"Alphas and their egos," said Diego, and he prodded Klaus in the side with one elbow. It was a gentle prod, but Klaus still shivered.

He was... he was tense. He was _sensitive_, in a way that reminded him of what coming off of the various substances had been like. He sighed, and he took a big bite of his waffles. "I am so tired of this," he grumbled.

"Your hormones will stabilize," Diego said, and he put a hand on the back of Klaus's neck and gave it a squeeze. "You're just going through your second puberty."

"I don't want to go through puberty at _thirty_," Klaus whined, and he tried not to lean into the hand on the back of his neck. His erection was throbbing even harder, and starting to leak.

"At least you don't smell quite as bad," said Diego. 

"You're not being helpful," said Klaus.

"What do you want me to do, get on my knees and give you a blowjob?" Diego was snickering.

Klaus probably should have made some quip, mumbled something about how _no, not all Alphas are like that_ or something similar. What he should _not_ have done was whimper and lean back into it.

"Oh my god, you knothead idiot," said Diego, and he ruffled Klaus's hair and stood up. 

"You're the worst," Klaus said, his tone morose.

"I totally am," said Diego. "Finish your waffles so I can get out of here before all the Alpha stank in here puts me through another heat."

"I can't do that," Klaus said, his tone dismissive. 

"Klaus," Diego said, and he sounded like he was talking to someone slow, "you are exuding pheromones like you are being paid for it. You stink."

"Sorry," said Klaus, and he took another bite of his waffle, then shoved the other one into his mouth mostly whole.

"I'd say "sorry" for chewing with your mouth open, personally," Diego said, and he took the plate from Klaus. He sighed, and he looked down at Klaus, his expression soft. "I know... it's hard," he said. "Realizing these things about yourself, getting to grips with them. 

"Thanks," Klaus said, and he shot Diego a grateful look.

"Go take a shower, you'll feel better," said Diego, and then he was off and out the door, which he closed behind him.

The smell of Diego stayed in the room, like someone had sprayed perfume. Klaus groaned, pressed his face into his pillow all over again, and he spread his legs, grabbing his cock and beginning to stroke it. He probably should have been doing it more gently, with less desperation, but... he couldn't seem to stop. He just kept _going_, as hard as he could, and then he was sobbing as his knot popped in his fist. He came hard enough that he saw stars, come shooting across the floor, leaving a sticky mess all over the floor.

"Oh," Klaus mumbled, and he flopped back onto the bed, panting, his mouth falling open as his chest heaved. "Oh, _fuck_, holy fuck..."

He was going to have to shower. Shower, clean his floor, all of it. 

In a second.

* * *

Klaus came to breakfast four days later, newly showered, his head clearer than it had been since his rut started. He sat at the table, and he ate a bowl of oatmeal, slowly and methodically. He wasn't a big fan of oatmeal - there were a few different ghostly women who floated around the kitchen and gave him the stink eye every time he prepared it. He had gotten better at ignoring them, although he still didn't entirely understand why they were there in the first place. 

Diego came in, looking tired. "You're back in the land of the normal," he said, when he saw Klaus. 

"I'm never normal," Klaus countered. 

"Well, no," said Diego, and he sat down on a chair, resting his elbows on the table. "But more normal than usual, I suppose." 

"I'm back to the land of the people not ruled by their hormones, at the very least," said Klaus, and then he yawned, his jaw cracking.

"Everyone is ruled by their hormones," said Diego. "They're what make everything work."

"You're being a pedantic asshole," Klaus complained. 

"Well, with Five out of town, _someone_ needs to pick up the slack," said Diego. 

“You’re working hard,” said Klaus, and he sighed, shivered. “I hate this,” he said.

“I'll help you," said Diego. "Next time. As long as it isn't in the middle of the busy season.".

Klaus glanced at him sidelong, and then he caught Diego grinning. 

Oh. 

"Busy season? You have a busy season?" Klaus took a slug of coffee, tried not to let the arousal throbbing through his whole body make him say anything dumb.

"You'd be amazed," said Diego, and he patted Klaus on the head. 

Klaus shivered, and he tried not to blush harder. "Thanks," he said. "For… for helping me. Taking care of me."

"Don't worry about it," said Diego, and he gave Klaus a crooked smile. "After all the work you put into taking care of me?"

"I'm surprised you noticed," Klaus said, flustered. 

"I'm not as clueless as I let on," said Diego, and then he was out the door. 

Klaus followed with his eyes, and he reckoned that he could _see_ the scent trail. "Welp," he said aloud in the kitchen, and that seemed to settle it.


End file.
